"How far West are you going?" she inquired, waking up suddenly from her reverie. "Lemme see your ticket. Um-m! Well, we travel together as far as Albuquerque, New Mex, and there we say 'Good-by.' I reckon California is about your size, Mr. Bowles, but don't you make any mistake and drop off in Arizona or the cowboys will scare you up some. As for the rest of it, I don't care what name a man goes by, but I see you are down on your ticket here as 'Houghton.'"
There was a challenge in her voice; but Bowles was not dismayed.
"Now, really, Miss Lee," he began, "why quibble over the accident of a name? Whether my name is Houghton, as I have signed it here, or Bowles, has nothing to do with the case. The fact is, I am suffering from an excess of aunts and Wordsworth, much in the same way that you are, perhaps, and my heart has gone out to the West. Be a good fellow now and help me out. Tell me about the country and what I would better do; and, though it is a small return, you shall have one more devoted slave to worship at your feet."
A fleeting smile came into his eyes as he delivered himself of this last, and the queen of the Bat Wing Ranch paused suddenly to make sure there was no mistake. It would be hard indeed to find oneself laughed at by a suède New Yorker, and yet—well, he seemed to mean it, too.
"Rise up, then, Sir Knight," she said, tapping him lightly with her sombrero; "and be mighty particular to change cars when we get to Albuquerque—otherwise the Chula Vista cowboys will make you hard to catch."
CHAPTER II
THE FAR WEST
Three days is a short time in which to post a man on the Far West, but if you don't care what you say, and say it quick, you can give him a pretty good fill. Dixie Lee was almost sorry when the Limited rolled into Albuquerque, and Mr. Bowles was fairly tearful in his adieus.
"Really, Miss Lee," he said, holding her hand with just a shade more than the proper pressure, "really, I shall never forget your kindness. The days have passed like a dream and I feel myself quite a Westerner already. Yes, I am sure I shall love the West—it is so big, and free—but what I like about it most is its splendid spirit of equality, its camaraderie. I can feel it everywhere—it is in the air—these great, rough-looking men, greeting perfect strangers in the smokers and on the platforms and saying: 'Say, pardner, gimme a match'—or a smoke, even! Oh, it is glorious! I—but, really, I must be going! So sorry our ways should part here. Well, good-by, Miss Lee—so glad we should happen to meet. I hope you have a pleasant journey. Thank you! Oh, don't mention it—good-by!"